


Wee Dark Hours

by Yeomanrand



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cuddling and Snuggling, Insomnia, M/M, Nightmares, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Present Tense, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeomanrand/pseuds/Yeomanrand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, woken by a nightmare, watches Sherlock sleep.</p><p>Teaser: <i>Sherlock always looks so young, sleeping; John reaches up and smooths some of the sweat-stuck dark curls away from his pale cheek.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Wee Dark Hours

When Sherlock sleeps, which isn't often, John's found he can sleep through almost anything: gunfire, bombs going off, his bedmate waking himself thrashing out of a nightmare. It happens more than John cares to admit; Sherlock's often not the only one awake in the flat in the wee dark hours of the morning.

He drops back onto the pillow; Sherlock murmurs something utterly incomprehensible — and probably not even English — and settles back against his side, leg pinning his, long fingers curling into the pyjamas just above John's racing heart.

Sherlock always looks so young, sleeping; John reaches up and smooths some of the sweat-stuck dark curls away from his pale cheek. Looks younger even than men John lost, on the battlefield, though he knows it's an illusion.

He still feels older than his years, for a moment, caught by a familiar urge to wrap Sherlock up. Keep him safe, though Sherlock himself is the furthest thing from _safe_ John can imagine. Always has been.

John huffs out the last of the lingering fear from his nightmare and sets his hand over Sherlock's; earns a faint smile from the depths of his dreams, lips slightly parted. His expressions shift like sun on water; the tender skin of his eyelids flickers when he moves deeper into REM sleep.

Watching Sherlock sleep isn't the same as sleeping himself; John knows this, the same way he knows the pain in his shoulder and the heavy weight of Sherlock's body. He also knows he won't be drifting off again tonight. The wakefulness that follows dreams of fire or drowning is always too intense to even try. He rolls onto his side so he can touch their foreheads together, sharing Sherlock's air; strokes a thumb lightly over his temple.

John exhales calmly. The company on his narrow bed is peace enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta as always by [shinychimera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shinychimera). Not Brit-picked. Concrit welcome.


End file.
